Slaves of Fashion
by Thess
Summary: Because sometimes even the closest couples argue over petty matters such as wardrobe or the lack thereof. PipxSeras & AlucardxIntegral. One shot. Manga ficlet.


Disclaimer: Hellsing belongs to Kouta Hirano.

Author's Notes: Dedicated and requested to Ciarda Rois (who asked for a cute and naughty story) for being the 100th person who added me to Author's Alerts. Also answers the theme of superstar in 30 kisses. Edited by Lyanna Kane. I refer Alucard&Integral and Pip&Seras as 'couples' because they are canon, AxI was referred as 'twisted love' by Kouta Hirano in Anime Expo. Set post war, possible AU warning.

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**Slaves of Fashion**

When Seras awoke inside her narrow coffin, she couldn't recall either her dreams or what she had last done before sliding inside her resting place; her last memories were of shutting the door after attending to a flight patrol over Midian. It happened half of her time, when her control slipped and Pip took over instead.

At first, Seras was weary and she somewhat dreaded having to open her eyes and see what he had done with her body. Then, she made an attempt to relax: she trusted her Captain and, besides, he would not do anything indecent with other people; he was quite over protective and was aware beers and vodka no longer tasted pleasantly for him. But this one night was special… she felt colder than usually. Even though the exposure to a certain temperature did not affect her system, this did not mean she couldn't feel the change.

Stretching her arms in mild confusion, Seras lifted the lid and realized what exactly was out of place. Her eyes widened, staring at her bare skin. There wasn't the smallest piece of clothing covering her. She was completely nude!

"Captain!" she exclaimed, enraged, as she stepped out of her coffin and picked her fallen uniform from the floor. It had been tucked along with several empty blood bags in one side of the domain.

_Awake already, Mignonette?_ Pip asked in a tone which, under the circumstances, was far too innocent.

"Explain this!" Seras demanded, flushed, as she pointed to her bare breasts.

_There's no natural explanation about the size of your rack. Maybe it's a side effect to vampirism?_

Seras let go to an embarrassed growl as she dressed, tucking her underwear and bloodied uniform. She slammed the coffin shut and sat on it. Trying to put her boots on. There were no chairs in her chamber, only a desk with assorted ammo, an untidy closet and weapon magazines that had once belonged to Pip (she had burnt his porn). She had tried to convince Integral to allow her to get Pip's room instead, claiming it was difficult for him to adapt to his new existence, but her boss had refused her request, stating that her Master felt she could only pursue her training as a vampire by getting rid of mortal possessions.

"At least Alucard doesn't keep you in a crypt, Seras," Integral had pointed out, trying to offer a positive prospect of her reality.

Standing up, Seras crossed her arms. "Well, Captain, I am waiting for an explanation."

_You want an explanation? Just look at yourself. Are you seriously going out in those clothes?_

Seras examined her red uniform; she had grown fond of the garb, even though during the first weeks during which she had worn it, the short skirt had been impractical in battles. "What about them? The blood cannot be washed off, the maids tried. And besides, the pyjamas aren't dirty."

_That's not the point_, Pip gave a mental scoff. _Have you any idea how humiliating it is for me to walk around that, while inside your body? Your rump attracts looks from my buddies. That's just gross._

"Oh," Seras uttered, tilting her head. She had grown accustomed to their peeks, but she'd never stopped to wonder how the Captain could feel about his former men ogling him in such a way. "Jealous?" she grinned toothily.

_They don't have a chance with you, Seras, we know each others' thoughts about it_, Pip answered, confident about their relationship. Dang, she could never get him to admit that. _But it is humiliating for me to prance around the battlefield in a miniskirt and stockings. _

"So you thought that the best way to tell me how you felt was by making me feel equally humiliated instead of just talking this through?" Seras asked, exchanging sarcasm for honesty. She knew she'd only be pointlessly wasting her breath by snipping with Pip.

_Uhm. Yeah. It seemed like a good idea last night, after Pierce pinched our butt. _

Seras sighed, wondering if Pip's common sense had rotted along with his body. "Let's speak with Sir Integral about this. She'll know what to do." That was her way of washing her hands of the deal and avoiding a clash over the control of their body. Walking out her quarters, Seras locked the door and headed to Sir Hellsing's office.

----

Integral Hellsing was calmly enjoying a lovely afternoon…with the small exception of her having grown exceptionally bored. There was nothing left for her to do, what with the war having finished and her Organisation having finally been rebuilt. Vampires were strangely quiet, now that humans were aware of their existence; their keeping a low profile meant there were no more attacks on hidden towns, no more "serial murderers", and, implicitly, no more problems for the Hellsing association to deal with.

She disliked quiet moments that lingered too long, they made her contemplate all she had lost in times of battle, with Walter and Penwood being the ones she would miss the most; at times she would even question her own actions. Thus, she had tried to occupy herself with her training, talks to Sir Islands about how London's reconstruction was faring and… more training.

Just as soon as Integral had returned from a practice session and sat down to savour a good cigar and read several curriculum vitae that she had received for the now vacant butler position, Seras (or was it Pip?) intruded her privacy.

"Sir Hellsing, can I-we enter?" Seras asked, knocking at the door shyly.

"Captains," Integral greeted, shutting the folders and sweeping them aside as she stood. "Come in." The door opened and Seras entered, giving a brief and stiff salute before relaxing her shoulders. "What brings you here, Seras? I've already read your report about yesterday's peaceful patrolling, and I have no orders for the night."

"It's an official matter, Sir… but it can be taken as a personal one, too," Seras answered awkwardly. "Let me explain… it's about my uniform. Captain Bernadette doesn't feel comfortable walking around in it."

Integral sat down and lounged into her chair, exhaling a bit of smoke that concealed her thin smirk. "He doesn't find it proper, does he? And what about you?"

"I have to admit I have grown attached to it, despite how much I disliked it when Walter first delivered it to me."

That had been Integral's intention. When Seras had first been brought into the Organisation, Integral had not liked the young officer, deeming her Alucard's 'toy' ; she'd wanted to make her an uniform in accordance to her status, to set her apart from normal Hellsing soldiers. Alucard had laughed at her mentality, and now she was embarrassed to have behaved in such an immature way.

"I see." Integral inclined her head, "I'll order a Hellsing uniform in your size, one more sensibly suited for combat."

"Thank you, boss! I won't have to look like a porn superstar any longer!" 'Seras' eyes beamed with a graver tone as she blew her a raspberry.

"You are welcome, Captain, no kiss, please," Integral replied, no longer knowing which surname to employ when addressing her. "Dismissed."

She watched Seras depart far giddier and noted the uniform was indeed atrocious, particularly given the position she occupied. Integral was no slave of fashion, but she admitted to a peculiar taste for stylish clothes, even as far as combat clothing went. She had a special fondness for black trouser suits and white shirts, so elegant and practical. Her own were of a very good quality, even though, at times, they tended to tickle her skin in the most unusual places, such as the crook of her neck, her inner thighs; currently, the shirt was being exceptionally tight against her chest.

_Perhaps it shrank because of the washing_, Integral thought, crushing the cigar in the ashtray before picking up one of the butler's folders again. She he could not concentrate. Thinking about her pantsuits made her remember of why she was wearing them, and unwanted memories resurfaced.

Contrary to popular belief, she did not wear them to honour her father, but because of Alucard. He employed one in a more masculine style but the suit design was similar.

"We are Master and Servant, we should dress alike," Integral had commented the day she had turned sixteen. "It'll help distinguish us from the rest. They will know we are connected somehow."

She also had deemed that, by wearing similar clothes, she would appear as powerful and fearsome towards humans as Alucard did among his fellow vampires.

Integral now smiled fondly: such an imagination she had possessed as a teenager! How naïve she had been! But she did not complain: they were fine clothes; they had never got torn, not even during the car crash. Not once had they been ripped apart, in spite of all the strain from the perilous missions she had faced. Her eyes narrowed, _Neither has my body been harmed._

Putting down the fifty-second file she had not read beyond the second paragraph of references, Integral invested her spare time in trying to recall a time of peril when her clothes had had to be replaced. Her struggle with her uncle had come before the suit. Integral also noted that the only time when she had ever been harmed had been on her face, even if the vehicle collision should have broken a rib or two. Walter's wires had shredded her white coat, but her suit had remained intact. She had always assumed her butler had had orders not to harm, her but now she was no longer as certain.

_They are like armour, only lighter…_ Integral mused, wishing she had not been forced to end Walter's existence and misery. He would have known about this.

"After all these years and you've just realized that, Countess?" Alucard asked, appearing behind her chair.

Integral's frown deepened, and she straightened her posture. "What, Count? _This_?" She took her letter opener and plunged deeply on her forearm; as she had guessed beforehand, the suit shielded her flesh from damage, bending the blade of the dagger. How foolish of her to have never noticed before.

"You did say clothes would link us, I just agreed and emphasized that. As you know, my Master, the ones I wear are an extension of myself…" Alucard spread his arms before bringing his hands to his chest.

Integral turned around, rising to look at him sharply. "I knew you wanted to get inside my trousers, Count. But I wasn't aware you wanted to _be_ my trousers."

Alucard laughed loudly at her statement, although Integral was not in mood for his own brand of mirth. "You still have your underwear, Integral."

"All this time I was walking with only my brassiere, knickers and yourself over me!" Integral exclaimed, trying to get a hold of her temper. She had to be in control of the situation, would always have to be in control.

"Sometimes you wore a coat or real clothes. Besides I walk around nude, just giving an illusion of clothes," Alucard shrugged, dismissing her logic. "If you don't like it, I can make them vanish."

"Yes!" Integral ordered, then corrected herself. "No! No yet, I refuse to stroll through the corridors of my home in undergarments." Her stance grimaced, "Now I know it wasn't the detergent that caused the tickling."

"Sometimes these extensions of myself have a mind of their own, Countess," Alucard assured her, smirking devilishly as he was still unfazed by her glare. "However, it was necessary."

"Do enlighten me on why this mockery was what I needed."

"I was aware I couldn't be with you physically all the time, Master," Alucard replied, his tone shifting to a less playful one, growing serious. "That was the only way, unless you became a vampire, in which you'd be _fully_… protected. Walter approved of the idea, thinking of your security and keeping the secret as he knew you could be unreasonable about this. "

Integral's anger diminished, understanding his point. Despite his games and self-serving attitude, he had been concerned by her welfare -- this _had_ been his aim, with the unknown fondling as just something on the side.

"Thank you," Integral said, more quietly, smiling faintly towards him. How many times had he saved her life without her knowing of this trick? Plenty of them, she supposed.

"You are welcome." Alucard inclined his head, smirking widely at her admission.

"However, Count," Integral suddenly stated, her smile turning evil. She appreciated his efforts but she would _not_ allow him to take advantage of his apparently good and selfless deed. "I was thinking of a change of uniform for me, since I have less to do and there's no need for such a… military attire." His eyes gleamed in interest.

"Such as? A dress?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Yes, a long, black dress, tight and with a lower cut, strapless and with a generous cleavage," Integral proposed, knitting her brows together in deep thought. "The red ascot could be tied to my neck and my white gloves would be half arm length."

"I am but your private tailor, Master."

"And your own tailor," Integral commented, glancing at him with an arrogant expression. "Or have you forgotten that our clothes linked us and made us different from the peasants?" The expression on his face as realization dawned upon him was priceless. "I thought so. You will not break that bond, Count. You shall obviously have to wear the same. You are my servant and a slave to my fashion. Now, about our choice of high-heels…"

Alucard left without a word, probably to sulk in the basement. He was a good boy and knew when he had lost a round. Integral noted her shirt was no longer tight and that her trousers had ceased to tickle her. Satisfied, she took her seat again and focused on the quest of choosing a new butler, just before her mind started to wonder if the vampire had offered similar services to her father. The last thing she wanted to do was dwell on Arthur Hellsing's lascivious past times and Alucard's fuzzy hat fetishes.


End file.
